


Hypertension

by abluemountainashtardis



Series: Mercury Veins [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Gen, post season two
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-14
Updated: 2017-08-14
Packaged: 2018-12-15 08:10:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11801982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/abluemountainashtardis/pseuds/abluemountainashtardis
Summary: Abnormally high blood pressure, a state of high distress





	Hypertension

“So what’re you going to do with all your stuff?”

 

Stiles and Allison were sitting on the floor pressed up against the wall of the garage, staring at the cabinets filled with guns.

 

Ironically it was the only room in the house both of them could stand to be in.

 

“Storage. We’ll unpack it when we get back from France,” Allison said, picking at one of the cardboard boxes at her elbow. “I don’t know what we’re going to do about… about mom’s stuff.”

 

Stiles automatically put his arm around her shoulders. “Took years before we could start packing away her things. It just didn’t hurt the same way one day.”

 

Allison gave a weary smile and flipped open a box, idly looking over the contents.

 

“I feel like we’re running away,” Allison said softly.

 

Stiles shrugged. “Maybe you are, a bit,” Stiles commented. “Maybe it’s more like… tactical retreat. Then you can regroup, and come at it again later.”

 

Allison hummed. “Thanks for doing this again. My dad wanted to hire packers but I… I didn’t want people touching her things and dad wasn’t really going to help and…” Allison dropped her head into her hands. “God, Stiles, it’s all just a mess,” she wept. Stiles tightened his hold around her arms and drew her in.

 

It was a few hours later when Chris found them, curled up in the garage surrounded by boxes and crates. He looked them over before sighing.

 

“Pizza?”

 

The two teens climbed their way up and out of the accidental fort of packing boxes they’d made and followed Chris through to the kitchen where pizzas were sitting on the breakfast bar.

 

“Uhg, I’m so hungry,” Allison said folding a slice in half and sticking the whole thing in her mouth. Stiles gaped for a moment before grabbing his own slice. Allison caught his look and rolled her eyes. Stiles snorted. Chris took his pizza into the other room.

 

“So when do you leave?”

 

Allison munched on her pizza. “Four days.”

 

“That’s soon,” Stiles frowned, licking sauce off his fingers.

 

“Yeah, dad’s trying to find an apartment before we go as well, so we don’t have to stay here or in a hotel or something when we get back.”

 

“That’s intense.”

 

Allison shrugged. “We’re used to moving around a lot,” she said.

 

“What sorts of places have you lived?” Stiles asked, taking another slice.

 

“Hmm… all sorts. We were at a ranch once, then Chicago when I was little, we lived next to a lake one year, and once I got put in boarding school but we all hated that,” Allison huffed. “Then there’s a house up in Washington we stay in every so often – I suppose that’s the only place I’ve ever thought of as a home base. Dad calls it the Homestead.”

 

“You’ve been all over,” Stiles said with a grin. Allison grinned back.

 

“Each place I had to start all over again,” she said. “Brand new everything.”

 

“You never kept in touch with your friends?” Stiles asked.

 

“I never really cared to before. If it weren’t for Lydia’s insistence I probably would have been happy being a wallflower. Making friends but…” she trailed off.

 

“But not best friends…” Stiles finished with a nod. He nudged her shoulder. “You’ve got some best friends here.”

 

Allison smiled. “Yeah, I think so,” she said softly. “You wanna see the photo album?”

 

“The photo album?” Stiles repeated intrigued.

 

“Yeah,” Allison said grabbing the pizza box and trailing her way through to the bare lounge, now filled with boxes - only the large items like the sofas and tv unit was left. “We take a lot of photos – documentary I suppose, but still. You can even get to see some of the ones I took,” she said with a laugh.

 

“Ah I've heard of the struggling artistic soul of Allison Argent,” Allison snorted rummaging through a box. Stiles grinned. “I’d love to see them,” he said flopping down on the sofa while Allison brought out the book.

 

“It basically starts with my birth then goes from there,” she said settling next to him.

 

“It’s like the story of Allison,” Stiles said with a grin. Allison rolled her eyes.

 

“Shut up,” she said with a grin. “Don’t get pizza on it.”

 

Stiles made an indignant noise.

 

“Here we go,” she said taking a deep breath.

 

“Hey, if it’s too hard -”

 

“I want to look at these,” Allison said, steeling herself. “I want to remember - and tell. You know?”

 

No Stiles didn’t know.

 

“Sure, yeah.”

 

Allison flipped open the book.

 

“This is them getting married,” she said, her voice hitched just a little.

 

“Your mom has long hair in this,” Stiles said. “And your dad has such a baby face,” Stiles whizzed around quickly scanning the room. “Cool, he didn’t hear me say that.”

 

Allison laughed a little. “Yeah. He got married to mom when he was still young. His own mother had just died, I remember him saying.”

 

Allison popped the picture out of its place and flipped it over. “Victoria and Christopher’s wedding. Summer 1995. Cutting the Cake.”

 

Allison popped it back in. “There’s a couple from the wedding here.”

 

“This one’s the whole wedding party,” Stiles said pointing. It looked like thirty people in total in the shot, all lined up outside a manor house.

 

“Yeah, this is one of my favourites. There’s mom and dad, there’s Kate and Gerard and -” Allison paused. “I don’t have the best of families, do I?”

 

“I don’t think anybody does,” Stiles replied. “Who else is in there?”

 

Allison blinked. “I don’t really know,” she said popping out the photo and reading from the back. “Uh, top line, left to right. Peter Wright, Martha Wright, Elizabeth Yew, Ffflammddwon Topez – there’s no way I can pronounce this, **”** Allison said laughing.

 

“Let me see, I’m the king of unpronounceable names,” he said holding out his hand.

 

“There’s no way your name can be as bad as this one,” Allison said passing it over and stuffing more pizza in her mouth. Stiles glanced down the list and read the name. His throat went dry.

 

Topezuvjw.

 

He swallowed hard before coughing, flipping the photo over and counting four along. The face looked familiar, maybe?

 

“Uh yeah, that’s a horrible name. The first name looks like flame down,” he said not really smiling at the joke. “Could be Welsh?” Definitely Welsh. “Are you Welsh?”

 

Allison snorted. “No. In case you have forgotten I’m French.”

 

Stiles mocked surprise. “Really?”

 

“Oui, monseuir, Argent is silver,” Allison said with a terrible fake accent.

 

“So? Are you telling me all the people in your family were boys and kept the stupid name?” Stiles raised an eyebrow.

 

“All the people in your family must have been boys to get to your stupid name,” Allison retorted. Stiles paused. “I win.”

 

“Fine, you win. Hey, oooo! I see a naked baby Allison!” Stiles said flipping the page over and sneaking the wedding photo to the side. Allison flipped the page of the book over so quickly Stiles laughed. “Fine then no naked baby Allisons.”

 

“I was an adorable baby,” she said eyeing a photo of her covered in tomato pasta, frowning.

 

“We've all got naked baby photos. Just think, we've already pre-emptively embarrassed all our kids on youtube already.”

 

Allison snorted. “What have you been posting to youtube?”

 

“Nothing?”

 

They flipped through the book, Allison lighting up when she reached certain photos, some places stronger in her memories than others. She didn't remember much of her early years.

 

“We just moved so often, I suppose that's normal, it just feels weird knowing I've lived in places I can't recall even a little.”

 

Stiles shrugged. “I don't remember much of my early years. We don't even have this sort of thing.”

 

“You don't have a family scrapbook or photo album?”

 

“Nah. We Stilinskis don't really go in for photos,” Stiles said with a crooked grin.

 

“So you were lying when you said you had naked baby photos,” Allison said shrewdly.

 

“And on that note, I should leave,” he said jumping up and escaping. Allison stood and walked him to the door, footsteps sounding loud in their emptying house. Stiles swung the front door open.

 

“I'll see you later,” Stiles said with a salute.

 

“Stiles...”

 

Stiles turned to Allison who had stepped forward. She put her hand on Stiles' arm.

 

“I might not see you again, before France,” she whispered. Stiles nodded and caught Allison's gaze.

 

“So you'll see me when you get back.”

 

Allison shook her head, her curls bouncing. “I don't want to make things awkward between you and Scott.”

 

“Hey,” Stiles said, lifting a hand to her cheek. “If Scott and Stiles can survive Scott peeing in Stiles' sandcastle then Scott and Stiles can survive being friends with our exes.”

 

Allison burst out laughing and they drew close, pulling each other into a tight hug.

 

“Safe travels, Allison,” Stiles whispered.

 

“Thank you, Stiles.”

 

Stiles let go and stepped back, nodding. Then he drove home, with a stolen snapshot in his pocket.


End file.
